


Apastron

by qualamity



Series: We were Always Meant to Live Among the Stars [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Barebacking, Breaking and Entering, Cock & Ball Torture, Dirty Talk, Don’t copy to another site, Drinking, Edging, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of sex trafficking, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Past Non-Con, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, d/s dynamics, fairytale space science, making dubious decisions while drinking, past deception, past sexual slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qualamity/pseuds/qualamity
Summary: Apastron (noun): the point at which two stars orbiting each other are farthest apartDrinking should be done with friends, not alone, as Harry learns when he decides to call someone who wants his head on a gold platter—Tom and Cedric would never settle for silver—after a night of heavy drinking.





	Apastron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashgoblinwizardparty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashgoblinwizardparty/gifts).



> Betaed by [trashgoblinwizardparty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashgoblinwizardparty), who got me into this ship in the first place with tumblr of all things.
> 
> Big thanks to [redhorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/pseuds/RedHorse) for helping me come up with the title and to the people who stayed with me through the three-day livewrite and put up with me posting cliffhangers and then disappearing for hours at a time. Love you all!

Harry had never been one to drink heavily, or at all really, other than that time when he was sixteen and experimented with firewhiskey. The burning liquor down his throat had sent him spluttering and coughing, and he had felt like he could have breathed fire if he exhaled long enough. Once had proven to him drinking was nothing special.

But now, he found himself ordering another glass—his fourth—and knocking it back with only a slight cough. Whoever had said drinking was the cure for all sorrows had been horribly wrong, Harry didn’t feel numb. He felt tired and melancholy and lonely, even more so than before he started drinking. 

He reached out to steady the glass and found a sleek silver device in his hand. It was the current most common communication device used in the galaxy. Harry stared at it for a long moment before his fingers entered in a fourteen-digit sequence from memory. 

“Hello?” a familiar groggy voice answered from the other end. 

Harry felt warmth, more of a memory than anything real in the shitty bar, and so much _want_ for the man on the other side. “I miss you,” he slurred. _And Tom,_ he didn’t say.

“Harry?” Cedric asked from the other end, all signs of sleep gone from his voice.

He flinched at the sound of his name. “This was a mistake,” he heard himself say. He should end the com call before they tracked it. His finger hovered over the disconnect button.

Harry didn’t press it.

“Oh stars, why are you so nice?” he mumbled, tilting his chair back to stare at the wooden ceiling over his head. It was full of holes, and the one right over his head was big enough for him to see the fiery swirls in the sky as Cymosa, the smaller of the two suns, was starting to set, and Harry could almost imagine he was flying through the stars again. “You’re an arsehole, you know? And so pretty. And nice.” 

Cedric let out a warm laugh, and it melted Harry’s bones a little. “Are you drunk?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said, drawing the word out several syllables. 

“Are you somewhere safe?” 

Harry looked around the rundown bar and shrugged. A few seconds later, he remembered Cedric couldn’t actually see him and said, “I guess.” 

“Go home now.”

“I don’t take orders from you anymore.” 

“Harry.” There was a sudden slight edge to Cedric’s voice, and Harry found himself entering in credits to pay for the drinks before stumbling out of the bar despite what he had just said. 

The world tilted before his eyes, and Harry groaned, nausea rising in his belly. 

“Harry, are you okay?” Cedric asked over the com, his voice slightly distorted. 

“Why do you care?” Harry mumbled. “You should hate me. You’re too nice, you know. I never understood how you were with Tom. Tom’s a right bastard.” 

Cedric let out a snort. “Get a Starline home. Stay on the line with me. Tell me why Tom’s a bastard.” 

There was a reason Harry shouldn’t do that, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “Tom’s really pretty too,” Harry said with a sigh.

A hovercar bearing the mark of a Starline stopped in front of Harry, and he got in the back. He rattled off his address to the driver before remembering he was on the com with Cedric. “Oops,” he said and burped. 

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Cedric said with a sigh. 

“Why?” 

“Oh, Harry.” Cedric paused. “So about Tom.” 

“Tom’s a bastard. He’s cruel and arrogant and an arsehole.” Harry slumped down against the seat. “I don’t get why I miss him. I miss you. You’re nice and pretty and cuddly and huggable. Tom’s a sadist. I miss you both.” 

“How are you doing?” 

Harry shrugged again. “Fine. Surviving. Paid off the creditors. That was why I did it, you know. They were going after my friends and people were getting hurt, and I needed a solution. And they needed me, and this whole shitshow happened, and I should be better now than I was before, but I’m not, and I don’t understand why.” 

The Starline stopped in front of Harry’s complex, and he stumbled out. Somehow, he managed to figure out how to walk up the stairs and unlock his flat. Inside, Harry toed his shoes off and flopped on his bed. “I’m home,” he remembered to say.

“That’s very good, Harry,” Cedric praised, and Harry felt warmth envelope him. “Do you think you can go drink some water for me?” 

“Yes.” Harry groaned as he forced himself upright again and stumbled to the water filtration system for a glass of water. He would do anything to make them happy. Harry sipped until the glass was empty, and Harry stared through it, everything blurry from the refracted light. “Are you mad at me?” 

“I was. I’m not anymore though.” 

“Is Tom mad at me?” 

“Tom will never admit it, but he misses you. As do I.” 

“We fit together,” Harry said, setting the glass on the counter. “Like a puzzle. A complicated puzzle that’s missing pieces. We’re a little broken, aren’t we, Cedric? Or maybe that’s just me. I’m broken, and I break everything I touch.” 

“You helped people,” Cedric said firmly. “You helped hundreds of people.” 

Maybe he had, but he had done it at the expense of Cedric and Tom, and he wished he could go back and fix everything. But despite all the scientific advances, time travel was still an impossibility. “I’m tired, Cedric. I’m so damn tired, and I just want to feel nothing and sleep but I can’t.” 

“Get on the bed,” Cedric ordered, voice darker. “Take off your trousers.” 

Sudden arousal pooled in Harry’s belly, and he scrambled to obey. 

“Are you wearing pants?” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry said breathlessly.

“Palm your cock through them and stroke three times.” 

Harry groaned at the too-light touch that ended too soon and stared at the ceiling, waiting. His cock was fully hard by then, half from his touch and half from memories he had struggled to repress. 

“Do you have toys?” 

“No, sir,” Harry whispered. “I’m not…” 

“Not the type to touch yourself without permission? Tell me, Harry, have you masturbated at all since the last time we were together?” 

“Once. It wasn’t—wasn’t right.” 

“It wasn’t the same without me holding you down while Tom opened you up and turned you into a sobbing, filthy mess?” 

“No. Yes.” He didn’t know how to respond to that. All he knew was that he was hard, and he wanted to come with Cedric and Tom’s hands on him. But even drunk, Harry knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Do you remember that first time when we had you for hours until you had gone hoarse from begging for us to let you come? What did we do?” 

“You left me there and started reading a book in the corner. Tom made tea,” Harry said, memories washing over him. He could picture it in his head. Harry had been bound to the bed, a vibrator in his arse and a rope on his cock that was attached to his hands. Every time he had moved, the rope tugged harshly, painfully enough to make his cock soften—except the vibrator stimulated him enough to prevent his cock from ever softening enough to escape the ropes. The two of them had ignored him, and that had just made him all the more aroused. 

He never came that night. They had refused to let him come for the first month until Harry had learned to stop begging and accept what they deigned to give him.

“You were so good for us,” Cedric praised. “Now I want you to touch yourself for me. Use your left hand and tell me when you’re close.” 

Harry was right handed, and the concentration needed for him to stroke his cock effectively with his left hand made the sensations all the more powerful. His orgasm crept up on him unexpectedly, and Harry gasped out, “I’m going to come.” 

“Stop.” 

Harry let out a sob as his hand dropped his cock.

“You are going to get a cup of water and paracetamol and place it on a stand close to your bed. Then, you are going to lie back down and bring yourself to the edge of orgasm one more time. You will wait for your cock to soften. Then, you may touch yourself and come this time.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry said and, like always, he obeyed. 

At last, when he was trembling and exhausted, the powerful orgasm washed over him, and he slept peacefully for the first time in months.

* * *

Someone was pounding his brain with a sledgehammer. Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and shut them again when Aktaie, the larger of the two suns, shown directly into his face. Oh stars, he was _dying._

Harry cracked an eyelid open. He was at home, at least. What had happened yesterday? He fumbled for his glasses and nearly knocked over a glass of water. Harry steadied it with his hands and gulped it down. Too late, he noticed the pills next to the water, and he swallowed those dry. 

As the pain from his head faded, the memories from the night before came back. Harry let out a loud groan and tried to suffocate himself with his pillow. 

Had he really drunk dialled Cedric just to tell him he missed him and Tom? And then had phone sex?

Another memory nudged his mind, something else he had done that was important, but Harry couldn’t capture the thought. Ugh, better to forget than to remember and die of embarrassment. 

He needed to change his com code. It would be a hassle to have his files updated at work, but Harry couldn’t risk Cedric or Tom or anyone else from the Black Diamond finding him.

* * *

Harry spent the credits on the new com code with a slight twinge of guilt. Before, he had spent credits always wondering if these were credits that could be saved to pay off his uncle’s gambling debts. He had taken the job thinking that if he succeeded—and it had been doubtful that he would succeed—that he could finally pay the arseholes hounding him for money and threatening to have him killed and his friends sold. Now, he felt guilty because he had paid off the creditors and could buy things with money that stank of betrayal every time he saw his bank balance.

For a normal merc, the code wouldn’t matter much. All they had to do was update their files, and they would continue to receive messages on jobs in their speciality. However, Harry was the clerk, the one who sent those jobs, and the more secure com systems didn’t allow messages from unfamiliar codes, which meant he would have to update each merc and make sure they allowed him into their systems. 

He went through work in a haze of fear, wondering if Cedric, or worse, Tom, would appear to drag him out of there and then cut off his head. Then again, that would be too fast to satisfy Tom. No, he would torture Harry slowly, make him beg—and not in a fun way.

But despite the anxiety threatening to choke him, nothing happened. The com code went through cleanly, and he had access to the systems. He saw no sign of him being watched by familiar or unfamiliar eyes, no indication that Tom or Cedric had tracked him down.

Mentally exhausted, Harry trudged back to his flat. He ordered take out and ate a few bites before collapsing in bed without bothering to tug the covers off. He was going to get at least a good last sleep if tomorrow was the day he would die. 

When Harry woke up, he was curled up under warm blankets. The dishes were gone from the table.

Harry pulled the stunner out from the drawer in his night stand and accessed his security system, the first thing he purchased after the Black Diamond job. No signs of forced entry. No cameras had caught anyone trying to break in. 

He went through the tiny flat, searching closets, bathtubs, and even cabinets too small to fit a grown person. Nothing. 

Maybe he had been too tired to remember getting up to clean up before really falling asleep. 

No one would break into his flat just to tuck him in and do dishes, right? 

Paranoia drove Harry to pocket the stunner and flee his apartment and hide at work after walking around the city and taking three Starlines to throw off any tails. More than once, he thought he saw either Tom or Cedric’s hair. He saw people who matched their body type out of the corner of his eye, but every time he turned, it was a random passerby.

Harry took his finger off the trigger once he almost shot a civilian. 

* * *

At work, he jumped every time someone said his name or a shadow passed by his desk and got nothing done. Exasperated with himself, Harry left work early that day and walked home. If they were coming for him, let them. He wasn’t interested in playing games. 

He opened the door to his flat and saw a man sitting at his table, sipping a cup of tea.

“Hello, Harry.” 

“Tom.” Harry’s voice cracked.

“Tea?” Tom gestured to Harry’s teapot with a careless wave. 

“No, thank you.” Harry swallowed. _How did you find me,_ he wanted to ask.

“Sit.” 

Harry nearly dropped to the ground then and there before he realised that Tom meant the chair across from him. He shut the door behind him and walked over, feeling like there was lead in his shoes, holding him back with every step. 

“You look well,” Tom said, smiling pleasantly. Harry knew that smile. It meant Tom was thinking of ways to make a mess of him, leave him a sobbing ruin. 

Tom looked as pretty as he normally did, not a hair out of place, suit perfectly tailored to his body. He looked more like a businessman than a spy. 

“Why are you here?” he asked. 

Tom arched an eyebrow. “Not going to ask me if Cedric told me where you were?” 

“Why would he know where I was?” Oh stars, Harry was never drinking _ever again._ What had he said? 

“Can’t hold your drink too well, can you.” Tom had that tone that made all his questions sound like flat statements.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted out. 

“No need to be sorry for your flaws and memory.”

Harry ignored him. “I didn’t know until after,” he rushed to explain. “I thought…” Thought that Tom and Cedric were just like all the other slavers at the Black Diamond. And then he had made such a splash about the organisation that all the slavers’ faces had been scattered throughout the galaxy, sending Tom and Cedric into early retirement.

“You don’t do too well when you think.” 

“Yeah well, I don’t do too well when I don’t think either,” Harry fired back. “I needed a way out and you got burned for it, and I’m sorry. I can’t fix it now. I can’t do anything now. What do you want from me.”

Tom finished his tea and set the cup aside. “I want you to make a choice. You can walk out of here right now, and you’ll never see me again. If you call, I won’t answer. Neither will Cedric. We’ll disappear from your life forever, and you’ll never have to be afraid I’ll kill you for ending my career.” 

Harry swallowed. “Or?” 

“Or you can strip and get on the bed.” 

He walked to the door and hesitated. His finger reached for the doorknob, but instead of opening the door, he locked it before turning and meeting Tom’s eyes. Deliberately, Harry took off his shirt and pushed down his trousers and pants together, kicking them to the side and walking to the bed. Never before had he felt more grateful than now that he had a studio flat when he could obey Tom and still look at him.

Tom walked over and ran his hand over Harry’s hair gently before tugging harshly. “Undress me.”

Harry carefully slid off Tom’s suit jacket before undoing the tie and the cufflinks, setting them down on the bedside table carefully. He undid the belt before realising a problem. “I can’t take off your shoes without getting off the bed.” 

Tom sighed. “I suppose down you go then.” He gestured at the floor. 

Harry sank to his knees on the floor. It felt like going home. He closed his eyes and let the sensation wash over him for a moment before returning his focus to Tom. Harry undid the laces before sliding off Tom’s shoes and socks. He pulled the trousers and pants to the ground, and Tom stepped out of them. 

Only the shirt was left. Harry rose to his feet, and his eyes met Tom’s dark stare as his hands fumbled the buttons. Somehow, even after the shirt was off and both of them were nude, Harry still felt like Tom had armour while he was more vulnerable than ever. 

Tom pressed his lips to Harry’s, a soft, gentle kiss that turned hungry after a few seconds as Tom devoured Harry. He pushed Harry backwards until he fell on the bed, Tom on top of him. 

“Did you miss me,” he asked when he lifted his head for breath. He rocked his hips against Harry, thrusting against Harry’s half-hard cock. “Did you think about me with your hand on your cock.”

“Once,” Harry gasped out. “I touched myself once without permission and thought of you. And again yesterday when Cedric ordered me to.” 

Tom’s lips curved. “Only twice in all these months? Did you think I would care.” 

“No.” Harry had been sure that Tom was more concerned with killing him than controlling when and where he would come. “But I couldn’t.” 

“You’re a good pet, obeying your masters even when they’re not around.” 

The praise made Harry arch, try to get more friction, but he couldn’t move Tom. 

“I think that deserves a reward.” Tom’s weight disappeared briefly, and Harry found himself being flipped onto his front. Tom slid a finger inside Harry, and he clenched down on it instinctively. It had been so long. He had wanted no one after the job was over. 

Tom’s finger brushed Harry’s prostate, and Harry let out an embarrassing whine. A dark laugh filled the room, and the finger disappeared. It was replaced with Tom’s hard cock, slightly cold from lube—where had he gotten that?—and he pushed inside Harry slowly. 

He was big, and Harry was too tight. The stretch burned, and Harry groaned at the sweet pain. Before, he had never considered himself a masochist, but Tom had shown him the ways pain could add to pleasure. Finally, Tom was all the way in. He stayed in place, unwilling to move. 

“You’re a sadist,” Harry muttered. 

Tom laughed and pulled out, just to slide in just as slowly. “They did pick me for the job for a reason. But I prefer a willing partner, and you are so very willing.” He leaned down and sucked a mark on Harry’s neck, too high to be hidden by a shirt. 

“Yes, stars, please.” 

Tom withdrew again and kept at that same slow pace, making Harry feel like his insides were melting. It wasn’t enough to make Harry come, but he didn’t care, revelling in the intimacy with Tom pressed so close behind him.

He came inside Harry before turning them and reaching around to grasp Harry’s cock, stroking a few times to bring him to the edge and then pushing him over. Harry came with a sob. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“Shh,” Tom soothed, holding Harry tightly, ignoring the mess on both of them. “It’s okay.” 

* * *

Harry woke up under the covers, curled up next to a person. He tried to open his eyes to see, only to groan and let them fall shut again. Stars, he hated crying. It made him feel like his eyelids were glued shut, and the sheer amount of effort needed to hold them open was too much for him to exert at that moment. 

“So you’re a mercenary?” Tom asked lazily from beside him. 

He buried his face in a pillow, face burning. “I thought you were a dream,” he mumbled into the fabric. 

Tom understood anyway. “You dream about me, Harry?” His voice lingered on Harry’s name, drawing it out like a gentle caress. 

Harry refused to respond to that. “I’m a clerk for the mercenaries,” he said instead. “No combat training, no expertise in weaponry or anything, nothing. The closest thing to a weapon I have is a stunner, and I bought that after…you know.” 

“Really.” The disbelief was clear in Tom’s voice. “Then what were you doing at the Black Diamond?”

“My uncle had gambling debts when he died. The creditors came to me instead and threatened to kill my friends and sell me into slavery.” They called it “buying passage” but, in reality, there was no way to earn enough credits to escape. “At the same time, there was a job floating around the mercs. One hundred thousand credits in exchange for infiltrating and taking down the organisation’s leaders.” 

Tom let out a low whistle at that pay-out.

“It was risky, of course, but the pay was enough to seduce some of the mercs. They went. They died. You see, the Black Diamond was good enough to recognize that they had training, and mercenary training is distinctive. They were caught in a lie, and, well, you know how the Black Diamond is.” There was a reason no one had managed to expose them. Even if anyone escaped without the indoctrination they drilled into the victims, they feared too much to speak out.

“But you didn’t have training.” Tom let out an incredulous laugh. “You sold yourself into slavery to escape the creditors who were threatening you with slavery.” 

“Well yes, it does sound bad when you say it like that.” 

“How did you trick the Black Diamond into kidnapping you?” 

“There was another merc on the job at the time, not a friend exactly but someone who was willing to share the payout with me and improve their cover at the same time. I got in, and I met you and Cedric.” Harry peeked at Tom over the pillow. The man didn’t look mad. “I was half-convinced I would get myself killed before anything happened, but by then, I had committed too many resources to this to walk away.” He probably would have had he not met them. “And you know the rest.” He had slept with them, collected information, and blasted it through the galaxy. Including their faces, which had effectively ruined the anonymity they needed for the jobs. “What are you doing now?” He was half-afraid of the answer, but he needed to know. 

“I’m an instructor.” Tom rolled his eyes. “Cedric has decided to retire early and figure out what he wants to do since all he’s ever done was try to fulfil his family’s expectations. He’s building us a home on Freseri now. We’ll see if it collapses after a week.” Freseri was a planet across the solar system, home to the rich and wealthy. It was far away from the sweltering heat of Aktaie but close enough to Cymosa to create a comfortable climate that hovered around twenty degrees centigrade all year long. 

“Cedric is good at everything he does,” Harry said, eyes shutting again. He reached over and patted Tom lightly. “You are too.” 

“Good?” came the affronted exclamation. “Just good?” 

“Mmm. Like yesterday. Seven out of ten. Could be better.” 

Tom growled. “I’ll show you good. Do you have an off-planet permit?” 

“Yes?” 

“Good. Come to this address in three days.” He pressed a piece of paper into Harry’s hand. 

“I’ll be there,” Harry promised. 

He never made it.

* * *

Two days later, the mercenary HQ was attacked by space pirates. Part of Harry’s brain could appreciate the fast, almost elegant op; they had gone in through the front and back entrances simultaneously. The two in the front had shot up the place, drawing the attention of the mercs. The two in the back had grabbed Harry, tied him up, and dragged him to their ship before he fully understood what was happening. 

Normal civilian ships didn’t have space for a prison, and neither did this one. Instead, the pirates had tossed Harry in a small supply closet and used something to prevent him from turning the door knob and getting out. 

He had spent the first hour kicking and punching the door, the second hour searching the closet for anything he could use when they came for him. Now, he was on the third hour, and he sat slumped against the shelves. 

It was stupid, but all he could think was that he would miss Tom. Would Tom think he had backed out, refused to come?

The closet door opened after an eternity. Harry rubbed his eyes and tried to adjust to the sudden light. 

“Get up,” one of the pirates snarled. 

Harry’s arm felt like it was being ripped out of its socket, and he let out a sharp cry. The pirate held him tightly, pinning him with one arm and holding his head up with another. Another pirate held up a starscreen to Harry’s face. “Proof of life as requested,” he said.

Any begging Harry was considering doing for release died in his mouth as he recognized the person on the other end.

“Very good,” Lucius Malfoy said. “My son is on his way to meet you now.” The former head of the Black Diamond looked surprisingly free for someone who should have been in prison.

“Payment?” the pirate asked.

“Half delivered to you now. My son will transfer the other half to you after the exchange.” The screen turned dark. 

The moment it did, Harry’s finger wrapped around the laser gun in the belt of the pirate holding onto him and pressed the trigger. 

The energy flare struck the pirate in the foot, and he released Harry, stumbling back and releasing the laser gun. Harry brought it up and fired at the pirate who had held the screen, sending him flying. He turned and shot the other pirate again, even though the man was already on the ground. 

He fled down a random direction and found the escape hatch. Inside, he quickly slipped into the suit and entered the tiny escape ship. “Parking brake, parking brake,” he chanted under his breath until he found the release and set the ship free. 

As the escape ship fell free, one of the pirates fired a thruster, and the blast sent him tumbling through space. Harry gripped onto the chair for dear life and gritted his teeth, praying he wouldn’t hit stray meteorites. When the ship finally stabilized, Harry tried to turn on the engines. 

Nothing happened. 

Harry strained his neck to look behind him and see what happened. There was a trail of black smoke. 

The blast must have caught his ship’s propulsion system. He was stranded in space. 

Space didn’t completely exist as a vacuum, but Harry was far away enough from the gravitational pull of other planets that the ship continued flying through space. The stars were close enough to touch, Harry realised, and he pressed his gloved hands to the glass of the ship. He had always loved space, wished that he could work in a space station rather than be planet-bound, and if he were to die, he didn’t mind so much that it would be in a place he loved. He only regretted not getting to say goodbye to Cedric and Tom.

* * *

It felt like an eternity passed. Harry tried to space out the food, but escape ships weren’t intended to last for long, and he ran out. The water lasted a bit longer; he tried to spread out his sips. 

Four hours after he ran out of water, he saw a moving object. 

A small ship, larger than his own escape ship, flew in his direction, and Harry hurriedly flashed the emergency lights, trying to catch their attention. 

It passed him at first but turned and came back. The ship stopped. The hanger door opened, and a small ship flew out, heading for Harry. It used its arms, long metal rods with three spikes at the end, to grasp Harry’s ship and hold him steady before pulling him back to the main ship. 

When they docked, Harry opened the hatch. “Thank—” The words died in his mouth when he saw his rescuer. 

He looked so much like Lucius Malfoy that he could only be the man’s son.

“I guess the pirates won’t be getting paid then considering they lost you,” the blond drawled. “Cheer up, Potter. You’ll like where I’ll be taking you.” 

Harry didn’t ask how Malfoy knew his name. At least he acknowledged that Harry had a name, which was more than what his father did. “I doubt it,” Harry said dryly and swallowed. 

He smirked. “Now are you going to stand still and let me tie you up like a pretty present, or will you make my day and fight?”

Harry fought. He kicked and scratched and went for Malfoy’s weapons, but the other man had him pinned in moments. He bound Harry’s arms and legs and actually placed a green bow on his head. Harry would murder him if he ever got a chance. 

They flew to Freseri. The planet was beautiful from space, lush purple forests and swirling pink clouds. As they descended through the atmosphere, their surroundings changed from black to dark green to pale green skies. It figured that Malfoy would be living here. Anger burned through Harry’s veins at the thought that despite everything he had done, Lucius Malfoy had escaped justice.

The younger Malfoy took them across the skies until they reached a landing pad next to a large facility. He took a com system, one of the encrypted ones, and made a call. “I have the package,” he said. 

The door of the ship opened. Harry could see people walking towards them, but with the Cymosa sun shining down at that angle, he couldn’t quite see who they were. 

“A bow, really?” Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry’s prone position. 

Harry nearly collapsed in relief. 

“It seemed fitting. How did it go on your end?” 

“Arrests have been made. People have been fired.” Tom shrugged. “Your father is back in prison.” 

Malfoy shut his eyes, a look of pain flashing across his face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Take your present to Cedric. I hear he’s been at the agency for hours.” 

“I already messaged him.” Tom picked up Harry, ropes and all, and carried him off the ship. “You missed our meeting, pet. How should I punish you for that?”

Harry sighed and relaxed in Tom’s hold. “However you want, sir. However you want.” 

But there was no punishment, no sex, nothing. Tom cut through Harry’s bonds once they were in his hovercar and drove them across the planet to a small cottage on top of a hill. He heated up a bowl of soup, and Harry drank it in gulps. He barely managed to make it to the bed—Tom and Cedric’s bed—before falling asleep.

When he woke up, the skies had darkened, and shadows fell across the room. He was caged by two bodies, one on either side. “Hi,” he said with a yawn, a silly grin on his face. “You’re both very pretty.” 

Cedric let out a rich laugh. “Yes, you’ve said. You can’t even see us right now.” 

Harry let out a hum and snuggled closer to Cedric as he stretched out his legs to tangle them with Tom’s. “I wanted to make sure you knew I meant this even when I wasn’t drunk.” 

“Cedric doesn’t need the reminders,” Tom said, his voice drier than a desert.

“More like _you_ don’t need the reminders,” Cedric grumbled. “Your ego is already big enough.”

“I really missed you,” Harry interrupted. “Both of you.” 

“Shouldn’t have disappeared across the galaxy then,” Tom said, unconcerned. 

“He was protecting himself,” Cedric pointed out. “I don’t blame him. You’re a menace.” 

“He likes it.”

As if to prove Tom’s point, Harry felt light arousal in his body. He could ignore it, but he didn’t want to. There would always be their past, deception, lack of consent, power differentials, and lack of communication that clouded what had happened between them. They would talk about it in the future, and Harry was determined for that future to exist if they wanted it as much as he did. 

There was also the now, and he wanted this moment to be clear that he wanted them if they wanted him. “Can we have sex?” he asked after an internal debate of how to frame the question to show that he was interested in them but not in pressuring them if they weren’t. The explicit question made him blush, not that they could see in the dark.

Tom fixed that by snapping his fingers and turning the sound sensor lights on. “What do you think?” he asked, the words directed at Cedric even though he was staring at Harry intensely. “Shall we play with him for a while?” 

Cedric let out a low hum before pulling Harry over him, caging him tightly. “Do you think he deserves a reward?” he asked, fingers rubbing small circles on Harry’s arm. 

Tom snorted. “I let him come four days ago.”

“And then the poor darling was kidnapped.” 

“If we give him a reward, that might reinforce such behaviour.” 

Cedric nodded. “But we can’t punish him for something that wasn’t his fault. Besides, it’s been so long we should familiarise ourselves with him once more.” 

“Yes, many things have changed.” Tom ran his hands down Harry’s shirt before pausing at the top of his trousers. “Harry, if you want us to stop doing anything, say stop.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry breathed, 

“Good.” He pushed the shirt up Harry’s body, and Cedric removed it completely. The trousers and pants came off quickly, leaving him naked and caged by dressed men. The contrast made him shiver. “Black hair, green eyes, needs corrective lenses,” Tom listed. He caressed Harry’s face and moved his hand down to his nipples, pinching them roughly. The pain made his cock twitch. “Nipples still sensitive.” The hand went down to his abdomen, brushing lightly.

Harry squirmed and tried to get away but didn’t say stop, didn’t even think about it.

“Still ticklish,” Tom reported. “Note the possibility for future play.” He went down again, reached Harry’s cock and grasped it. “Uncut, pubic hair needs shaving. Or maybe we can try wax. What do you think, Harry? Do you want to be waxed?” 

Oh stars and skies, that sounded painful. “Yes, sir.” 

“Another day.” He ran his hands down Harry’s legs. “Muscular, scar on left thigh still present.” He reached the soles of Harry’s feet and ran a nail down the sensitive skin.

Harry reflexively tried to kick him, but Tom caught him with ease and held him still and did it again. Harry groaned and struggled, but both of them were unyielding. 

“Future experiment: can he stay hard if we tickle him?” Cedric said. “I hypothesise yes.” 

“No,” Harry gasped out. They were going to kill him.

Tom paused. “Stop?” 

He shook his head. “Keep going. Please.”

“Turn him,” Tom ordered, and Harry found himself flipped to his stomach, face pressed against Cedric’s chest. Cold lube dripped down to his arse, and a finger prodded his hole, traced his rim before penetrating him, striking his prostate with unerring accuracy. “Prostate play will be a good reward for him if he behaves.” The finger disappeared. “Well, our pet is in order. Is he hard?” 

A thigh nudged his cock. “Very,” Cedric reported. 

“Do you want to fuck him?” 

Harry froze, waiting. 

Cedric shook his head. It wasn’t surprising; Cedric had rarely been interested in sex even in the Black Diamond when everything had been about pain and sex. “I’ll kiss him while you fuck him though.” He pulled Harry up, and their eyes met. 

Harry bent his head down and pressed his lips against Cedric’s. The kiss stayed chaste and sweet, neither of them bothering to deepen it.

Tom pushed into Harry, using his hands to balance his weight to avoid crushing Cedric beneath the two of them. Harry broke off the kiss with a moan and shifted to bury his face in the crook of Cedric’s neck.

“One day, I’m going to introduce you to all my toys here,” Tom said, sounding ridiculously calm considering he was buried balls deep inside Harry. “I’ll make you come with each of them until you’re begging for it to end. By the time I’m done, you won’t be able to walk anymore. I’ll make it last for days. You’ll fall asleep with a vibrator inside you and I’ll program it to randomly change settings. It will wake you up in the middle of the night, just for a moment before wondering if it was all a dream. And then you won’t come for months.” 

Harry came with a cry. Tom finished in him and pulled out, rolling to the side and taking Harry with him. 

Cedric left and came back with a wet washcloth and wiped Harry clean before handing the cloth to Tom. He stripped efficiently and came back to bed, holding Harry sweetly in his arms. Tom joined them, nude as well, and they slept, under the sparkling stars of the galaxy, a future ahead of them.


End file.
